


He Was Sunshine, I Fell Over

by the_painless_moustache



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek is a TA, Fluff, M/M, POV Derek Hale, TA Derek, and I put a little bit of a not-fic teaser in the after notes just fyi, because I can't leave fluff alone, i'm a bad person, short and sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-30
Updated: 2014-11-30
Packaged: 2018-02-27 12:52:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2693678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_painless_moustache/pseuds/the_painless_moustache
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek spends most of his time buried beneath books, so when he looks up and sees Stiles it's natural of course that he has no idea how to handle it.<br/><i>In which Derek is a socially inept TA, Stiles is a sassy Lit nerd with standards, and the two of them work out perfectly.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was Sunshine, I Fell Over

**Author's Note:**

> I got the title from _[Oxygen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M-wyZpAByIE)_ by Colbie Caillat

 The first time Derek sees him, he loses his step. Erica laughs at him, pointing him out to anyone who seems interested in the reason she’s wheezing. _He_ seems pretty interested, anyway, turning to openly stare along with about a dozen other students. His mouth— _pink, round, swollen, perfect_ —is hanging open like he was in the middle of saying something. When he notices Derek look, the corner of his mouth turns up in a friendly grin.

 “Did I just witness you meeting your soulmate?” Isaac asks, swinging an arm over his shoulders and offering a carrier filled with coffee cups.

 “What? No. Shut up.” Derek grabs the coffee a little aggressively.

 “Hey!” _He_ appears, jogging towards him, still smiling. “Hey, you—you look _really_ familiar? Do you take Lit 204?”

 “Uh.” Derek answers intelligently.

 “Yes, he does.” Erica answers for him.

  _He_ looks to Erica, eyebrows flitting into a confused expression. “O-kay. Well, I’m Stiles.”

 “Ah.” Derek’s head starts bobbing of its own accord. Isaac, thank the little cherub, elbows him viciously, which knocks his coffee free. He watches in slow motion as it careens to the cement, and then breaks open all over Stiles shoes. “Oh, fuck.”

 Stiles— _gorgeous, beautiful, perfect Stiles_ —stares at his shoes, and then at Derek himself. And Derek, well…Derek’s pretty sure he’s about to throw up. Then Stiles laughs, and he _knows_ he’s going to throw up. “Well, it’s a good thing I wore my least favorite shoes today. If they were my favorite, we’d have to throw down right here and now.”

 “I think anyone who uses the term ‘throw down’ doesn’t actually know how to ‘throw down.’” Erica throws in.

 Stiles grins. “Fair enough. Hey, so…I’m not the greatest in that class. You always seem to have good notes. So—so if you have some time, maybe you could…help me out?”

 “Yes!” Erica and Isaac blurt. Stiles’ grin fades after that, and Derek knows he has one chance to fix this.

 “I can do it.” he says, clearing his throat. “I, uh—yes, I can do it. I have notes. We could…talk. We should. Talk, that is.”

 Stiles smiles again, looking pleasantly confused. “Great. So…we can talk after next class?”

 “Okay.” he agrees. “Sorry about your shoes.”

 “Seriously, no problem. But maybe don’t bring coffee to our next encounter.” He winks before saluting to Erica and Isaac and sauntering off.

 Winks. Salutes. _Saunters_.

 Derek is going to break. Scratch that, Derek is broken.

***

 The next time he sees Stiles, it’s in Lit 204. Derek kind of short circuits again, because he’s laughing with a pencil sunk halfway into his mouth. He’s never really noticed Stiles before, but he doesn’t know how. Stiles lights up the whole space, making the dingy lecture hall into something beautiful.

 He ducks into his regular seat, muttering an apology to the professor who sends him a disapproving look, and pulls out a sheaf of papers he’s been grading. Because as if his interaction with Stiles was enough of a disaster, he’s also the TA.

 He’s doomed.

 He realizes how out of tune with it he’s been, because Stiles never shuts up. Only he never says anything stupid. It’s mostly witty underhanded comments about the author or the text or sometimes the teacher but there’s also an insight into it that shows Derek he actually knows what he’s talking about. And that kind of turns Derek on, a _lot_. It also helps that he’s sporting a beanie today, flattening the spiky bangs from yesterday against his forehead like art.

 Derek nearly stabs himself just for thinking it.

 At the end of class, when he’s packing up, Stiles skips up to him and grins. “Hey.”

 “Hi.” Derek manages.

 “Mr. Stilinski, wonderful to have as always.” the professor intones, raising his thick, bushy eyebrows as he approaches. “I’m sure the class looks forward to your reaction on this week’s reading.”

“As they always do, Professor.”

 “Mr. Hale, if you wouldn’t mind having those on my desk by five.” he adds to Derek, eyebrows twitching.

 “Yes, sir.”

 “Thank you. No bribing him now, Stiles. TAs are notorious for their steel-like will.”

 Stiles’ smile goes a little fake. “And their unsurpassable ability for espionage, Professor.” he agrees.

 “Sorry?”

 “Nothing. Uh, I just remembered my lab group is meeting today. Sorry.”

 “Stiles!” Derek yelps, shoving his papers unceremoniously into his bag. The Professor gawks, but he doesn’t have time for that. He races after Stiles, who is impressively  quick-footed. “Stiles, hold on!”

 “I shouldn’t have asked for your help, it was inappropriate. I apologize.” Stiles snaps at him without stopping.

 “I—I’m a TA, this positioned is designed for me to help students because professors can get so busy and—”

 “Shut up!” Stiles spins on him, stalking forward. The motion as Derek scrambling backwards, even if he has a good forty pounds on him. “You know exactly why I asked for your help, and you let me! You let me, I am such an _idiot!_ I refuse to be that stereotype, okay? Scrawny track kid, fine. Dorky literature nerd, whatever! But I will not sleep with my TA, okay? I won’t be that girl.”

 “You aren’t a girl.” Derek responds dumbly.

 Stiles blinks at him, and then just makes a half-growl-half-screech noise before turning and stopping off.

***

 The third time he sees Stiles, he’s working in the library. He ends up in the reference section pulling books for someone when he sees Stiles, spread out in the furthest corner, seemingly content to read against the wall. Derek thinks about approaching him, but he looks serene like his. He can’t bring himself to ruin that.

 The fourth time is at the coffee shop. Stiles apparently works there as a barista, which he wouldn’t have known because Isaac always gets the coffee. Except for, apparently, today. He stands in line, eyeing Stiles the whole time. The way he grins and laughs and flirts with anyone and everyone. He ends up moving to the back of the line twice and then just texting Isaac and Erica that the coffee shop had a mishap with a blender and was closed when he got there.

 The fifth and sixth time are just glances in busy hallways. Hallways that he ends up moving to the opposite side of, just in case. The seventh time is back in Lit 204, but Stiles doesn’t say a word the entire time, instead staring at the board as if it’s just murdered his entire family.

 Derek hides in his papers.

***

 It’s two weeks of Derek dodging any area where Stiles might be located before the man in question confronts him. “So, I still hate you for lying to me and everything, but I’m tired of seeing you run from me like a goddamn wounded deer. So suck it up and buy me lunch.”

 Derek stares at Stiles for a solid fifteen seconds before what he’s saying registers. Then he blurts “I didn’t lie.”

 “You didn’t tell me you were a TA, either. Lunch or not?”

 “Lunch.” he agrees quickly.

 Stiles raises his eyebrows, like he’s surprised, but he nods and turns on his heel to walk away. Derek follows, unsure what else he’s supposed to do.

 “So…you’re still mad?”

 “Yes.” Stiles confirms airily.

 “But we’re going on a date?”

 “A lunch date. Probably the most low-key dates of all dates.”

 “Breakfast seems low-key.” Derek notes, shrugging helplessly.

 “Have you ever had a breakfast date?”

 “No.” he admits.

 “Then you don’t understand. Breakfast dates are reserved exclusively for family or bed fellows, neither of which you are.”

 “Oh.”

 Stiles turns to look at him, considering. “You’re not very verbose.”

 “You are, though. So maybe that makes us a good match?”

 Stiles stops then to stare at Derek for long enough that Derek gets uncomfortable. Then Stiles’ shoulders relax and he gives Derek a weak grin. “Why’d you let me ask you out?”

 “Well, you kind of gave me an ultimatum, so I just—”

 “Before. You knew you were the TA for my class. Why let me flirt with you?”

 “Because I never would have gotten the courage to flirt with you.” Derek answers, ignoring the panic knotting up his stomach. “I’ve had my head buried in books and papers and the one time I look up, I see this—this— _you_.”

 Stiles still has a soft sympathetic look on his face, like he thinks Derek’s going to fall apart. Derek’s not so sure he’s wrong. “You kept avoiding me after.”

 “Of course I—wait, you _noticed?_ ”

 “Of course I noticed, Derek, I’m not stupid. I’ve been working up courage for weeks to ask you out. You might be blind, but I’m not.”

 Derek blushes, shifting from foot to foot. “So…so you noticed.”

 Stiles grins then. “And I’d still like it if you bought me lunch.”

 “Even though I’m your TA?”

 “I don’t know, I think we could make it work for us.” Stiles says, shrugging. Then he winks and saunters off.

 Shrugs. Winks. Saunters.

 Derek is going to fall ridiculously in love with him.

 Stiles turns and mimes lassoing him when he sees Derek isn’t following.

 Scratch that, Derek already is.

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, by "making it work" Stiles meant the fun they'll have when he realizes guilt and arousal are not mutually exclusive things in Derek's book.  
>  _Derek, I'll do anything if you give me those answers for tomorrow's quiz._  
>  ** _I don't - Stiles, damn it, you - oh, god..._**  
>  _I meant anything, Derek._  
>  And oh hey here's my [Tumblr](http://www.thepainlessmoustache.tumblr.com), where I accept love letters and other sorts of mail.


End file.
